To Be Happy
by A.F. Venta
Summary: Viral has been traveling since he can remember, without knowing why. When he stumbles upon a strange blacksmith and a beautiful woman named Elera, he makes his home in a new village, with a new life. This takes place in Viral's dream-sequence.
1. Chapter 1: Chougin

AN: This is my first fan fic. After seeing the dreams in Gurren Lagann I really wanted to write a possible scenario for Viral who seems really happy in what we glimpse of his dream. Other Gurren Lagann characters most likely won't appear, but then again, that might change. The fic is rated T because I wanted to give myself some leeway when writing more chapters, thought I don't plan on writing anything sexually explicit or overly violent. I think the series had enough violence that writing a more tranquil and psychological-based fiction is a nice balance. Any series characters that appear will probably be a little OOC but I'll do my best not to stray too far.

I don't own Tengan Toppa Gurren Lagann or any of the characters, though if I did I'd have about a hundred Bootas.

Viral couldn't remember a day in his life that he hadn't been traveling or sleeping outside. A supposed orphan (his childhood was hazy at best) he simply hadn't been able to stop moving from one place to another. Anywhere he stayed he felt restless, as if he belonged somewhere else. Except he couldn't find that place. It was eternally out of reach. At first the urge to move had been unbearable and it drove him to travel without stopping for days. Eventually it calmed down and it was rare today that he really felt compelled to wander constantly. Now he paced down a well-used road, alert while he walked without being wary.

Up ahead, a little village sat, basking in the sun. Viral's first instinct was to walk around the village and continue on the road, but on second thought he decided to go through it. It had been over a year since he'd seen other people; if he was uncomfortable, he was just passing through anyway. Upon entering, he began attracting stares from the villagers, making him hunch his shoulders and duck his head a little. He could only imagine the sight he made walking through. His clothes were worn and dirty; full of holes, and his blonde hair was muddy, long and unkempt. His sharp eyes glared at anyone that so much as glanced at him. Still they continued to stare as he passed. This was a mistake. He should have gone around the damned village. He should turn around now, but no, that would look even stranger. Better to just keep going and then break into a run once he was clear of the villagers.

He had made his way to the town center where children were playing and women were watching them when something made him stop. He had a strange feeling that someone was calling out to him, though his ears heard nothing of the sort. When he looked around there was a large, bearded man watching him. The man gestured for him to come closer. Uncertain, but overwhelmingly curious, Viral complied and made his way over to the man. He was tall and well-built, wearing the clothes of a smith. Behind him was a smithy; undoubtedly his.

"Need a place to sleep tonight?" The bearded man asked in a rich bass voice.

"No, I'm just passing through," Viral said, hoping that he could slink away without any trouble.

"Ah," the man nodded as if understanding, "it just looked like you needed a friendly hand."

The blonde traveler avoided eye contact and scowled at the ground, "Really, I just want to be on my way."

"Where are you going?"

Viral paused, unsure of how to answer. There was no destination that he was trying to reach and he didn't carry maps so he couldn't have invented a place even if he tried. Cities, towns, villages…they were all nameless to him, just like the people that lived there. So he found that his answer was the simple truth: "I don't know."

A large, calloused hand landed on his shoulder, not in an unfriendly way. "Well," the man reasoned, "if you don't know where you're going, why don't you spend the night here? You might find that this is the place you've been trying to get to during your travels."

He couldn't help but stare at the smith whose words hit home.

"Come in," the hand guided him into the smithy which was clean and filled with intricate works of metal. The walls were lined with beautiful swords, axes, hammers, spears, shields and helms and on the anvil was a delicate and elaborately worked rapier. Viral looked at the weapons each in turn, noticing that there was a strange symbol worked into the metal. It looked like a twisted ladder and it was present on all of the smith's items.

"You're very talented," he remarked.

The bearded man smiled then shrugged and sat down on a stool near the anvil. "I think of it as something I've always been meant to do. I enjoy creating things." He swept his arm to encompass the entirety of his stock, "Sometimes weapons and armor are more than just pieces of metal used to fight. Sometimes they become much more in the right hands, the right situation, the right time. This one," he lightly touched the rapier, "has taken a long time to make, but it will be worth it when it's finished."

Viral came closer to look at the unfinished weapon. It looked more ornamental than anything with jewels woven into its golden hilt and guard and the blade glinting in the light that the forge's fire gave off. Carefully he picked the rapier up and felt it in his hands. So light! And the blade so thin as well. "A beautiful decoration," he put it down again.

"Ah but it's not merely decorative," the smith smiled, "despite its appearance, in the right hands it can do more damage than you'd think."

Something about the man made Viral feel comfortable and at ease. He'd never really felt this way around other people before, but this man…it was almost as if he'd known him all his life. "I think I will take you up on that offer," he said softly, then extended a hand, "my name is Viral."

The calloused hand grasped his own and the man smiled with even white teeth, "I'm glad you changed your mind, Viral. My name is Genome."

AN: From what was seen in Simon's dream, the characters interacted with other characters that were important to them and who better for Viral than Lord Genome? Please tell me what you think so far!

A.F. Venta


	2. Chapter 2: Elera

It was hard for Viral to adjust to waking up in a house at first and there were a few nights that he spent outside. Yet, little by little, he grew more or less accustomed to living with Genome. What had been a one-night offer turned into an indefinite invitation to stay. A little more than two weeks after coming to the village, Viral had not once had reason to think that he was wearing out his welcome. What's more was that he found a friend in the blacksmith who was well-learned and more than happy to spend an evening sharing his knowledge. The village, named Chougin, was a little slower to welcome the newcomer.

Deciding to make himself useful, Viral spent his time searching and doing odd-jobs. The first week he found it difficult to work as the villagers, who weren't used to outsiders lingering amongst them for so long, stared openly at him. A bath and a change of clothes helped quite a bit, but his own wariness and short temper kept him from fitting in. A few jobs were also lost because of his tendency to snap at his employers and walk out on them. Despite all of this, he felt no desire to leave and continue traveling. For once he felt calm and at peace, enjoying a daily routine of waking, eating breakfast with Genome before finding that day's work then returning home and spending the evening listening to the blacksmith tell him more about the world he had walked through but never really knew.

One day, he was moving furniture for an elderly antique seller when a young woman entered the shop. The seller had left on an errand, promising to return promptly, leaving Viral to move chairs and dressers in silence. When he heard the door open, he looked up and caught his breath at the woman's beauty. She had long, sun-kissed hair and dark eyes. On either side of her head a velvety cat's ear grew, a curious trait that made him look down at his hands which were thick and tipped in claw-like nails. "Excuse me," her soft voice made him look up again. She was looking at him inquiringly, perhaps thinking that he was employed in the store. "I was wondering if you could help me," she said, taking a step forward.

"I don't work here," the words tumbled gruffly from his mouth, "I'm just moving some things for the owner, he should be back soon." He turned away, thinking to go back to what he was doing while she left. He found himself wishing that he was better at talking to people; he would have liked to have at least asked the beautiful woman's name.

"Actually," he turned, surprised to see her still there, "my cart broke and I was wondering if you could help me carry some things." She waved vaguely in the air, "I live outside of town and I can't carry everything by myself. I can give you a little money if you want, so will you help me please?"

"Ah…" he stood uncertainly, then nodded, "yeah…I can help you." He glanced at the furniture that still needed to be moved and shrugged before exiting the store. He'd be back soon enough; the old man would just have to wait until then.

Outside he saw the broken cart. It was delicately painted with abstract designs and loaded with various groceries and household items. Looking at it closely he saw that one of the three wheels had split in two. The vehicle itself was tiny with a seat only big enough for one person and a strange set of levers and cranks at the front. He touched the levers curiously, wondering how they worked and what they were for. A tiny silver peal of laughter made him turn around to see the young woman cover her smile.

"It's a strange machine isn't it?" She asked.

"Machine? This?"

"I know it's strange to see one so far from Kina city, but it's so useful," she slid her hand lovingly across the side. "I can load it up and drive it to and from town so quickly, it's really amazing. All I have to do," she held out a strange looking object, it was shaped like a spiral cone about the size of a finger, "is use this. Here," she leaned forward abruptly and placed the cone into a slot on the lever panel which caused the machine to light up and hum quietly. Viral felt his face flush as he caught a glimpse of her cleavage and then was given a first rate view of her rear.

He cleared his throat, "Well…we should get these things…" he moved quickly to the bed of the cart and began unloading the items into his arms.

The woman looked up and looked embarrassed for a moment, "Right…I'm sorry, this is probably uninteresting to you, let me help." She retrieved the cone and pocketed it before picking up the lighter groceries.

"What about the cart?" Viral wondered.

"Don't worry," she shook her head, "it'll be safe until I can return for it. I just want to get these things back right away."

They walked in silence through the town, then out of it, away and through the fields until they came upon an old house. It looked worn down and as though it needed repairs badly and he couldn't help but wonder why she lived in such a place. He waited without saying anything until she had opened the heavy front door and bade him follow her.

Once they entered the kitchen she placed her bags down and fished around until she had found a packet of paper. "Thank you," she nodded to him, "I need to get this medicine to my father. Oh and let me give you something—"

"Don't worry about it," he cut her off, "it wasn't a big deal after all."

"You're too kind," she smiled, "may I ask your name?"

"Viral," he fidgeted uncomfortably, starting to feel awkward.

"Thank you, Viral," she bowed a little, "my name is Elera, I hope that I can repay your favor some day."

He nodded a little and turned to leave. The walk back to the antique shop seemed longer than it should have been and when he got back he wasn't surprised to see the old man waiting for him, more than a little annoyed by his disappearance. He listened to the seller's angry blustering before snarling, "Well if you can do it by yourself, go ahead!" With that he left and returned to Genome's house, his mood becoming darker with every step.

When he reached the smithy he sat down on the front step and scowled at the ground, angry at himself for ruining a means of making money and angry at nothing in particular. There had been no reason to snap at the old man. Nor had there been a reason to walk out on those other jobs. Since coming to the village, though he felt more peaceful and content, he also felt constantly on edge and resentful of the villagers. It made no sense, but he couldn't push away the feeling of being suffocated whenever he walked through the village, of being targeted every time he looked at one of its residents. Looking up he saw a little boy staring at him while his mother spoke with another woman nearby. "Piss off, you little brat," he spat at the child and stood up, scaring the boy. The mother rushed to protect her son and glared fiercely at him, but he didn't care as he turned and entered the house.

"Welcome back," Genome greeted him from a table where he was drawing a design for a weapon.

Viral let himself fall onto a bench and stared at the coals of the forge fire. After a moment he asked, "I keep wondering why I'm here, Genome. Why am I still in Chougin?"

The blacksmith shifted in his chair, making it creak. "I know how you feel, Viral," his deep voice filled the room, "you feel as though you have no purpose, that you are just floating. Let me assure you, that is not so. If you are patient, you will understand what you must do when the time comes. You're here for a reason, just wait a little and you'll see."

"Genome…" Viral frowned, "what are you saying? I don't understand at all."

"What do you want to eat tonight?" The other man had already risen and disappeared upstairs where they lived. "I have some fish we can cook," the bass voice called down and there was a clatter of pots and pans.

"My purpose," Viral stood up as well and looked out one of the windows, "what is my purpose?" From the window he could see up the street and for a moment thought he caught a flash of sun-colored hair and heard the hum of a machine being started up. "I guess I have to wait a little more," he told himself, the image of Elera's quiet smile in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3: Someone Like Home

"It's good," Viral half grunted, half murmured as he set the tea cup down on Elera's table. The motif of the cup seemed like it suited her, a flowered branch with a bird perched on it. He focused on the cup, too nervous to look up at the woman across from him.

Though he couldn't see it, she watched him with a thoughtful smile. "Do you want more?" He shook his head, and she laughed a little, "Viral come on. You've said four words since you sat down. I know I'm not that scary."

"Maybe you don't think so," he said without thinking and winced a little when she frowned at him. "I mean," he faltered, "pretty women like you make men nervous and…" he scowled at the tea cup then quickly buried his face in it to keep from saying anything else.

"You think I'm pretty?" He looked up and saw a broadening smile on her face. He didn't answer, instead pretended to be immensely interested in the last drops of tea in his cup. They sat in silence for a long moment before she asked, "So, is there anyone that will still hire you the village?"

His scowl returned, "No, not really." A little over a week had passed before Elera called on him and invited him for tea. In that time he had managed to further alienate himself from the people of Chougin. The last remaining villagers that had been willing to hire him before now turned him away with barely veiled dislike and the looks he received from passersby on the streets made him feel like a diseased stray no one wanted around. He ground his teeth a little thinking about it, feeling anger that had no memorable source rise within him.

Elera quietly leaned forward and touched his hand. "Something will turn up for you," she said, though her words didn't sound so sure. She sighed and took a gulp of her tea, "It's not easy being different in this village. I guess it's the same in other villages too; people get used to what they see everyday and don't trust new things."

Something about her remark called forth a thought in his mind and his eyes darted to her soft ears. "May…" he cleared his throat and tried again, "may I ask you something?" She nodded him on, "It's just…your ears, my hands," he held one up to display the claws, "we're so different, but why?" _That didn't even make sense,_ he berated himself, _what are you asking, anyway? Why are we different? What are we? How the hell would she know?_

"My mother had a tail."

The matter-of-fact tone she said it with stunned him momentarily and before he recovered she had finished the tea in her cup and began to elaborate.

"She passed away six years ago," the beauty explained, "but she had a lovely tail…like a fox's. Normally she hid it under her skirt but it was so soft and pretty. Anyways, I think that sometimes people like us are born, with tails and ears and what have you. Maybe we're a different race and others are born looking even more animal-like than us, who knows?" She refilled her cup and his as well, "In the end, does it matter what we are? I think our actions define us better and most people in Chougin would agree with me."

He frowned, "I doubt it, the way they look at me—"

A silvery laugh interrupted him, "Not because of that, Viral. Is that what you meant by being different? They look at you like that because you constantly glare and snarl at everyone!" She crinkled her eyes at him, still grinning and added a cube of sugar to his tea.

"But…" he began, then stopped, being forced to concede to her. He had to admit that his attitude probably made a bigger first impression than his appearance. He smiled with her and let her tell him more about Chougin, about its people and how they had once been nomadic. Like him, something about the land attracted them and they settled down, built the village far away from other cities and towns and made a comfortable life for their children and grandchildren. Being so isolated they had no contact with the rest of the world but neither did they have to worry about wars or even bandits. Outsiders were so rare that Viral was the first to be seen in almost two generations. He listened to her quiet voice until the sun began to set, then made his excuses to get home and promised to come back for another cup of tea.

***

It wasn't long before their visits had become more frequent and soon they were often seen walking through the streets of Chougin together, running Elera's errands or just enjoying the weather. A close friendship blossomed between them as well as an underlying romance that neither was brave enough to admit just yet, and though they sometimes argued and separated in anger, they never failed to reunite and make up. Around the young woman, Viral felt at home and found an unexpected strength in her beneath her calm and peaceful nature. Around him she smiled almost all the time and laughed for no other reason than happiness.

Some days she was obliged to remain at home, caring for her father who was very ill and confined to his bed. On those days, Viral did whatever he could to help, but usually ended up returning to Genome's home, feeling somewhat lonely and useless. On one such day he entered the smithy dripping with the sudden rain that caught him on the way back. Hanging his cloak by the hearth and removing his boots, he found Genome in his forge sketching designs for new weapons. The bearded man looked up at his guest and motioned for him to take a seat on a work bench.

"You look like you have quite a bit on your mind," the smith observed.

"Days without Elera are less bright than those with her," Viral answered.

Genome chuckled, "Yes women tend to have that affect on men. Come, let's talk, perhaps it'll take your mind off of her for the evening."

The blonde man nodded, thinking a moment then asking, "Why do you think we were put on this earth, Genome?"

"Well that's certainly a difficult question to answer," the man smiled, raising an eyebrow, "not something a lowly blacksmith ponders."

Viral snorted indelicately, "Well I'm not asking a lowly blacksmith. No matter how many swords you make you can't convince me that metal is all you think about. Not very long ago you told me that if I was patient I'd find my purpose, but you didn't really explain that."

"Ah, I see what you're after. Well take this smithy for example," a broad hand swept around the forge to take in the impressive collection of weapons, "blacksmithing is something I feel that I was called to. I feel that the creation of things is my purpose. When I craft a fine spear I feel utter happiness and pride for my work. Have you ever felt that way, Viral?"

He shook his head, "No, I can't say that I have. I've always just felt…compelled to do things. Whether it was traveling or…well I don't really recall much else besides traveling. I've always just felt a need to do it. The only time I've ever felt any sense of…rightness was when I've had to fight off animals during the night or sometimes thieves on the road. Fighting always seemed to suit me, I guess."

Genome smiled, "I guess you have an answer, then."

"That's not much of an answer, if you ask me."

"Like I said: patience. Now, I think it's your turn to prepare dinner."

***

The next day, Viral and Elera went for a walk outside the village and he told her about the conversation of the night before. "He wouldn't say anything else after that," he told her, "sometimes he just shuts up after saying something cryptic and strange like that and I can't say anything to make him open his mouth again."

But Elera wasn't listening; she had stopped walking altogether and was shading her eyes as she looked to the east, a worried expression on her face.

"Hey," he frowned at her, "what's wrong?"

"Look," and he turned his gaze to where she was pointing. In the distance it looked like there was a camp large enough for twenty or thirty travelers. It hadn't been there the day before and it looked ominous and menacing where it sat. "I've never seen so many people," Elera said softly. "Not people from outside of the village at least. I wonder if they're coming here, and why." She dropped her hand and turned to him, "Let's go back, please. I don't like the sight of them, it makes me nervous."

He nodded and rested his hand between her shoulder blades in a friendly manner as they walked back. "I'm sure they'll pass us by," he said, somehow unable to believe his words. When he glanced back at the camp he saw that blue and white pennants had been raised. Perhaps Chougin wasn't safe from the rest of the world after all.

***

AN: I hope you've enjoyed the new update. For anyone unhappy with the rate at which I update I feel for you, I know how maddening it can be when a fan fic you like or are interested in doesn't update often. Between all the other projects I'm juggling and my infrequent inspirations for this updates will not be fast in coming. For this chapter I wanted to move the Viral/Elera relationship along because we all know they fall in love obviously and I'm eager to get into a meatier part of the story. Hence the somewhat foreboding camp at the end there. I'm doing the best I can to keep Viral IC but at the same time I want to take a few liberties and write him in a way that I think enriches the story. I don't plan on going overboard though.

Thank you for the reviews, I appreciate and look forward to them and thanks to everyone that favorited this fan fic, that's very flattering. Lofast: You asked about the kid that shows up in the series and the timeframe of the story. My intention is to write up to a certain point and then jump ahead to the sad point that we all know where Viral returns to reality. I haven't yet decided where that point is, but one thing I don't want to do is write so fast that the story gets rushed and it feels forced. Hope that answers your question.

For those of you that like this story and wish it updated more, I invite you to check out my other projects. You may be interested in my comic "My Master's Servant" or my deviantArt account on which I plan to upload some art for this fic. You can get to these via the links on this page: "http://pseudoworlds."


End file.
